


make me

by ymorton



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, The X Factor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton/pseuds/ymorton
Summary: xfactor era lilo with a hint of daddy kinkwritten january 2014





	make me

It’s the end of a long, shitty day. Rehearsals started at six AM and haven’t ended, over a half day later. They’d had an hour for lunch, which Louis mostly missed because he’d had to work on his harmonies one-on-one. He hates that, because the music coach  _very_ obviously doesn’t think he deserves to be there and usually just sighs a lot and says, “Again. Let’s - try it again.” 

So at seven PM, he’s ready for dinner and sleep and maybe watching a film curled up in Harry’s bunk. Harry’s really good at petting Louis’ hair, is the thing. And he always has snacks squirreled away under his pillow. 

They’ve practiced their routine a dozen times straight. Even Niall looks at the end of his rope, and Zayn’s stopped communicating entirely. 

Only Liam’s still soldiering on, and he’s passed quickly from authoritative to a bloody pain in Louis’ arse. 

“Come on, lads,” he calls, rousing Zayn from a nap against the barre against the wall. “One more time!" 

He shakes Niall’s shoulder, looking manic with his eyes alight, and Niall yawns, hard, in his face. 

"Me feet are killin’ me,’ he mumbles. "No more, Payne. No more-" 

"Stop complaining,” Liam snaps. “And you’re missing a beat before the chorus." 

When he turns around Niall makes a dirty hand gesture, sticks his tongue out. 

Louis stares at Liam’s back, seething, as Liam calls, “Alright! Here we go, Louis, don’t miss your C# on the bridge-“ 

"I didn’t fucking miss it!” Louis snaps, before he can stop himself. 

Liam gives him a long-suffering look over his shoulder. “Just don’t do it again.” 

“I didn’t do it the first time,” Louis hisses, shoving Liam’s back, and Liam stumbles a few steps forward, turns back to Liam with a comically-shocked expression on his face. 

“Yes you did!” he says, stupid and open-mouthed. 

“No, I _didn’t!”_

"Listen, I think I can tell when you miss a note!” Liam says, his voice high. “Don’t try to pretend you didn’t mess up!" 

"I didn’t bloody mess up!” Louis screams, and oh, maybe he needs to back off. Maybe he needs to sleep for eight hours straight, because his voice is cracking and he feels shaky-legged and unsteady. 

But he’s never been good at backing off. 

Liam’s jaw is set stubbornly. From the corner of his eye, Louis can see Niall dragging Harry into the corner of the studio to get water, obviously too fucking tired to get involved in this one. Zayn’s asleep again, on top of a pile of yoga mats. 

“I don’t know what your problem is,” Liam says, his cheeks pink. “But you messed up." 

"You’re driving me completely fucking  _mad_ ,” Louis says, harsh. “You know that, right? You know how mental you’re making us?” 

"I want us to do well,” Liam snaps right back. “Sorry if you don’t-" 

Louis shoves him again, gets him up against the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and Liam grabs Louis’ arms like he’s going to shove him backwards and then doesn’t. Louis’ got some weight on him, anyway. He pushes into Liam, says, “I didn’t mess up.” 

"Yes you did,” Liam says back, and his cheeks are all flushed, his eyes insistent. Louis wants to smack the look off his face. “Listen, I know you’re tired, but we need to get this right-" 

"Oh thanks,” Louis sneers, pushing harder. “Do we get a snack break, too, _please_ , daddy?” 

Liam’s face is a curious thing. As Louis watches, he blinks like a startled deer, then does a sort of half-twist away from Louis’ grasp that doesn’t actually move him anywhere. 

"Get off me,” he says, voice weak, and Louis smirks at him. 

“Doesn’t bloody feel good, does it, Payne? To get bossed around?" 

He shoves Liam harder into the wall, and Liam chokes, “Get  _off_ me-“ 

He’s breathless, even though Louis’ nowhere near strangling him. Louis pushes forward, curious, and then gulps in a shocked breath. 

That’s - something. Against his hip. Something, uh. Hard. and hot, and familiar. 

"Are you,” Louis starts, shocked, and Liam closes his eyes, gulps in a noisy, wet breath. 

“Get off,” he says, small and embarrassed. 

Louis lets go, and Liam turns away from him. In the mirror over his shoulder, Louis watches as Liam sneaks a hand down to his crotch, adjusts himself. His eyes close and his throat bobs in a long, slow swallow. 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

He got Liam hard. Somehow, in that whole mess of a row, Liam got- hard. 

“Lou?” Harry calls from the water table. “Liam? We’re heading back to the house. Niall’s got low blood sugar." 

That’s Niall’s latest favorite excuse for getting out of overlong rehearsals. He usually then sits smugly in a chair while devouring four or five different chocolate bars. Liam  _hates_ it. 

But tonight Liam just says, “Yeah, alright, whatever.” His face is still bright red. Louis can’t stop staring at it. 

"Coming, Lou?” Harry asks. 

“In a minute,” Louis says, not taking his eyes off Liam. “Go on without me." 

Zayn rouses himself from his nap, stands up smoothly and follows Niall and Harry outside. 

Then the studio’s empty, except for them. Liam’s making a show of straightening his shirt, messing with his hair. 

"We’ll finish tomorrow,” he says, still sounding shaky, and Louis takes a step forward, close to Liam’s back. 

“What’s that about, then?” he says. It comes out a bit more harshly than he wanted. He can’t help it. Liam drives him mad. 

“Shut up,” Liam breathes. In the mirror, his eyes meet Louis’, dark and shamed. “Just- go, okay?" 

"Tell me,” Louis says, his voice coming out unfamiliar, lower than usual. Like someone else is controlling his body, he watches himself edge closer to Liam’s back. This close, he can feel the heat coming off him. 

“Louis, shut up,” Liam bites out. 

“Why should I?” Louis asks. His hand is shaking a little, but it steadies when he puts it on Liam’s hip. Oh fuck. This is stupid, probably. “You going to make me?" 

"Louis,” Liam whispers, half-reverent, half-terrified. “What are you doing." 

Fuck, Louis doesn’t know. He’s exhausted and half-hard and Liam drives him absolutely mental but right now he wants- he wants to touch. He wants to press himself up against something and _grind_. He wants to come. 

And Liam’s, like, right here. It’s convenient. That’s probably all it is. 

"Gonna stop me?” Louis says, low, and then - on a flash of sick, pleasurable memory, he adds - “Daddy?”

Liam groans loose in his throat, and the sound is shocking in the quiet room. Louis’ head spins. This is  _really_ stupid, then. 

“Turns you on,” he says, all trembly. Liam’s shuddering in front of him, his head dropped. “Doesn’t it?" 

"No, shut up,” Liam says, weak, and then softer- “Lou-" 

"Let’s just not fucking talk about this,” Louis says into Liam’s ear, putting his other hand on Liam’s firm stomach, over his t-shirt. “Okay? We get off once. Then tomorrow you can act like a bossy little prick again." 

"M’not a prick- oh,  _god_ , Louis-” his sentence trails off, because Louis’ put a hand down his gym shorts. 

Liam’s still hard. Ha. Louis knew it. 

But, like. Liam’s  _hard_. The reality of it- hot, silky skin nudging against Louis’ palm - is a lot bloody different than just knowing it was there. 

"Louis,” Liam gasps, sounding wild. “Louis." 

"Be quiet,” Louis says, soft, low, curling his hand around Liam’s prick and slowly turning Liam around to face him. Liam goes easily, slumps against the mirror, turning his big dark eyes up to Louis. “Shut the fuck up,  _daddy_.” 

Liam lets out a choked moan, and Louis tucks his face into the warm crook of his neck and works his fist over Liam’s cock hot and fast. 

He’ll make Liam come, leave him to clean up the mess, and get himself off in his room - he’ll make Liam need it. He’ll make Liam groan, and beg, and roll his hips up asking for more and blink at Louis with his big dumb cow-eyes- 

Bleeding hell, he’s so hard. 

"Louis,” Liam breathes, his hips jerking helplessly up into Louis’ hand. The head of his cock is red and slick and obscene, sliding in and out of Louis’ fist. The sounds are incredible, the sounds make his dick twitch. The wet slap of skin on skin and Liam’s soft, broken whimpering- 

“Goddamnit,” Louis snaps, letting go of Liam’s cock for a minute and yanking his own sweats and pants down his thighs. He gets a hand on himself and lets out a relieved groan at the sensation. He’s close already. 

“Please,” Liam whispers, and Louis stares at his cock, heavy and swollen against his belly. Liam looks like he’s about to pass out from wanting it. 

“Do it yourself,” Louis says, tugging himself hard. 

“Pricktease,” Liam says unexpectedly. Out of character, for him. “God. Are you- are you gonna come?" 

"Next time I’ll blow you,” Louis promises wildly, close to coming and loose-tongued, stupid with it. He closes his eyes, drops his head. “Yeah, make you feel so fucking good, daddy, please." 

"Louis,” Liam gasps. Louis can hear him wanking. “Louis. God." 

"Shut the fuck  _up_ ,” Louis snaps, humiliated. He didn’t mean to say that. He wants Liam to put a hand in his hair and twist. He wants Liam to come on his tongue and beg him for more- 

"Don’t talk to me like that,” Liam says, shockingly low and gravelly, panting between words. “You’re such a bloody brat." 

"Oh, fuck, make me, fuck, please-” Louis stammers incoherently, and comes all over his hand. 

Liam chokes out something that sounds like  _Louis_ and follows. 

For a second after Louis lets his whole weight rest against Liam’s body, against the mirror. Liam lets him. Liam is breathless, boneless.

Eventually Louis pulls away. He’s shaking a little, a good kind of shake he gets after coming really bloody hard. It’s underlaid with a sick sort of fear, though.

He liked that. He liked that just as much as Liam did, and he has no clue why.

Oh, _hell_. He’s got some weird sort of kink with Liam Payne. This is a travesty. 

He opens his eyes. Liam’s wiping come off his belly with his t-shirt, a faint disgusted expression on his face.

“You’re such a twat,” Louis says without thinking. 

Liam looks up at him, his face settling back into a mulish expression. 

“Don’t tell the others,” he says. 

“Like I would,” Louis snaps, offended. 

“Good,” Liam says, a little hollowly. He looks away, swallows visibly. 

Louis feels an unwelcome pang of guilt. 

“Maybe I did fuck up the C# in the bridge,” he says, not making eye contact. 

Liam looks at him, brightening a little. Of course the sick fucker gets off on Louis’ mistakes. 

“You did,” he says. 

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Payne." 

Liam smiles, almost relieved. Louis stares at him. 

"You’re such a pain in my arse,” he says, voice ragged, and before Liam can say anything, Louis kisses him on the mouth. 

It’s brief but hot - a quick, deep press of lips. Right near the end Liam seems to catch on, tries to kiss back, but Louis pulls back. 

“Right then,” he says, trying to keep his voice from cracking. 

Liam’s staring at him, puppy-eyed and dumbfounded. He licks his pillowy pink bottom lip, and Louis has to drag his eyes from it. 

“Just fucking lighten up,” Louis says, giving Liam a short gentle push against the mirrored wall. He’s not sure what he means. He really wants to kiss Liam again. He might also want to put his mouth around Liam’s dick at some point. He’s obviously gone fucking insane. 

Liam nods, dazed. 

When Louis turns around to leave, Liam follows at his heels. 


End file.
